Warzone (Ziam)
by SkyeWolfe
Summary: Book #1 in the Pillowtalk Trilogy. "It's a war zone" Zayn and Liam both have twisted lives and both handle the situations very differently. Zayn is going down a spiral. Liam has already gone through his downward spiral. Zayn has lost all hope. Liam has a little hope, trying to hold on to his optimism. Zayn needs a savior. Liam may just be the person who can do that.
1. Chapter 1: Broken Home

Chapter 1: Broken Home

Emptiness. It was the only way I could describe this feeling inside of me. I couldn't feel anymore; nothing mattered. I was numb. Numb from the crying, numb from the fighting, numb from all the **pain**."You are just worthless, Trisha! You can't hold a job, you can't keep track of those kids, you just sit around and doing nothing, you are pathetic!" The words are harshly spit at my mother yet I am the one in pain from them. A silent tear takes a leap from eye and makes a trail down my cheek, wetting the dry track marks from before. I slide down the hallway way, my knees curling into my stomach. The screams and hurtful words muffle when I cover my ears, not wanting to hear it anymore. That is all that has been happening for the past two weeks. My sisters are never home because of it, and I am drowning in misery. The words, the hatred, the loss of love, it is all too much. I don't know why it started but it is making everyone miserable. All this pain is too torturous. I feel so broken inside and I don't know how to fix it. As I sit on the floor, everything eventually goes numb and silence finally ensues after a slam of what I can only assume is the front door. One of them has left. The fighting has stopped, for now. I wait for a few extra minutes before standing up and walking into the living area. My mother sits on the back of the couch, her face facing the floor, shaky breathes stuttering their way out of her mouth. Once she sees my feet shuffling into view, her head snaps up, fear and surprise filling her red, puffy eyes. Tears still stain her face and unshed tears threaten to still fall. "Oh! Zayn. How much did you hear?" I don't answer her with words. Instead, I give her a broken smile and head for the door, leaving like my father did. Just as I am about to walk into the street, I hear those unshed tears fall from my mother's mouth.

The bar atmosphere gives me a familiar comfort and fills me with a semblance of an emotion. The bar tend gives me a wave and shoves a glass full of whiskey my way. I smile to myself and shake my head. As I sip the drink, I wonder if the bar tender knowing my order comments how much I frequent this place or if it comments of my moral integrity. I snort at the thought and let the alcohol consume all my emotions and feelings. A few minutes goes by before the doors open behind me and everyone seems to freeze in motion I turn to find out why and everything in me stands on end. The young boy standing in the doorway is beautiful; He looks to be around my age with big beautiful brown eyes, floppy brown hair to match, cut short on all sides and kind of in his face. He is tall and lanky but kind of built from what I can tell. Everything about him is breath taking but his beauty isn't what makes me freeze. It is the crestfallen look painted on his face and the hint of bruises covering his face. After a few moments of staring, I break from my revere and put my eyes firmly back on my glass. After that, everything goes back to normal. The stranger makes his way to the other side of the bar and seems to keep to himself. He orders what looks like to be a scotch, and sips it quietly, his head bent into an all too familiar position. "So, young lad, where are you from?" I hear the bar tender ask the stranger. He mumbles a response but I am too far to hear. However, I found myself wanting to know where he is from, what he is like, his life story, his favorite things, his fears, everything. It is such a compelling feeling that I must keep myself from getting up from my seat and invading his personal space. Instead, I settle for taking subtle glances at him, silently wondering to myself.

I am too lost in my thoughts about the stranger that I don't notice he is gone until I hear a voice speak from behind me. "You know, staring at people is considered rude."


	2. Chapter 2: Promise

Chapter 2: Promise

-Zayn-

I felt like dying. Or crawling into myself and never coming out ever again. _How could I let myself stare at him like that? Did I want to come off as a creep? This guy must truly think I am insane._ The clearing of a throat makes all my thoughts clear and I look up to see the stranger still standing there, looking at me expectantly. I realize that I had yet to answer him and I feel a hot blush spread its way all over my face. I clear my own throat and raise my eyebrow, trying to play this off as coincidence. "Me? Staring? Pshhhh no. I wasn't staring." The blank look he so easily puts up tells me he isn't buying my lie.

I sigh a little, slumping in my seat. There is no use in trying an excuse. The blush spreads over my entire my body, making me extremely hot under my collar. I feel like I am suffocating in my embarrassment. This is harder than I thought this could possibly be. "Sorry. I didn't mean to stare…. I have just never seen you before. You fascinate me." The stranger takes this time to blush. His beautiful, pale skin turning a bright red color. "I fascinate you? How can that be. You literally just met me." The stranger decides that he is comfortable enough with me to sit in the seat next to me, the bruises on his face more visible under the harsh light.

The urge to tell him that I was watching him when he walked in was so big that I had to hold my tongue. I had already told him that I found him fascinating, telling him that I watched him when he walked in and was frozen by his beauty, would surely make him run for the hills. So instead, I settle for the first thing that comes to mind. "I turned around when you walked in. Saw the bruise on your cheek, and the sad look on your face. Wanted to know why."

The stranger tenses up, his whole demeanor change. "I don't talk about it okay. Don't worry about it." The sheer amount of ice in his voice, makes me want to apologize for every damn thing I have done or said. Instead, I back pedal a little. "Okay. No problem. Let's start over. I am Zayn. And don't worry about me ever mentioning that you fascinate me." I stick my hand in front of him, hoping he accepts this as a twisted apology. He instantly relaxes, smiling as he sticks his hand in mine. "I am Liam and what? I don't think you ever told me that. Tell me more?" We both laugh as we shake hands, our hands stay together longer than necessary. I don't think Liam noticed, but I was completely aware of everything we did. I was hyper-aware of everything that was going on between us.

"So, what brings you to the bar? You must have some reason." Liam asks the question so casually that I almost don't panic. _Almost_. I feel my lungs seize up, my breath becoming shallow, tears automatically making their way to my eyes. I grip the side of the bar hard, trying to break in front of a total stranger. Liam notices my change in demeanor and automatically reaches out for me, worry streaked across his face. I jump back, not wanting him to touch me now. I find my way out my chair and fumble for my wallet, pulling out a 5 note and pushing it onto the counter before high-tailing it to the exit, ignoring Liam's look of hurt and confusion.

The night is dark and cold but I could care less, I needed to get out of there and away from that stupid, stupid question. I shiver, rubbing my bare arms while I walk, getting further and further away from the bar. From Liam. From that damn question. As my feet echo through the night, I feel my body relax and my breath becomes less shaky. I watch it when I breathe out, mesmerized by the patterns in makes in the night, the cold making it visible.

As I walk, I can't help but feel bad for leaving Liam like that. He didn't know what that question was going to do to me. How could he? He doesn't know how fucked up my life is right now. How fucked up I am _…. Oh come off it. You liked the pain it caused you. You thrived off it. Just admit it._ I stop in my tracks; confused. _You just don't know yet. I am going to be your worst nightmare._ The thoughts dissipate, the second they were said, just like they weren't even there. I stay still for a moment, rubbing my temples before continuing my random journey to nowhere.

Sometime as I walk, footsteps enter from behind me, getting closer and closer, making me paranoid. I stop and steady my breathing, my fingers making their way down to my jean pocket just as the footsteps gain up on me, right on me now. I pull out my switchblade, the metal gleaming in the moonlight as I extend it, pointing it in the direction of the person who tried to sneak up on me. I sharp shriek comes from the stranger and I gasp in surprise. "Liam? What the fuck are you doing sneaking up on people like that" I exclaim, hastily trying to put my switch blade back.

"Never mind me sneaking up on you, why the fuck do you have a switch blade on you?" He exasperates, his breath shallow and his eyes wide. I shrug in nonchalantly and turn to continue my walk, not waiting for Liam. "Bradford isn't exactly the safest place. Especially at night. Better to be prepared. You coming or what?"

Liam and I walked together for another hour, talking about everything we could think of. I learned about where he is from, his parents and his siblings and how he is the baby of the family. It felt good to get out of my own head for a while. To have someone else to talk to. We didn't part ways until we hit the block before my street. Liam looked down at his watch, and smiles sadly. "I must leave you now. I have to work in the morning and it is a long way back to Wolverhampton. I nod in acknowledgement and watch him leave in the night, before turning and walking the rest of the way home.


End file.
